


Banter

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-22
Updated: 2007-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 05:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14730554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Lestat and Armand talk.  Post Blood Canticle.





	Banter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Very Not Mine

Summery: Armand and Lestat talk. Set post Blood Canticle. Lestat's POV.  
Disclaimer: Non profit, don't own characters.  
Rating: G

 

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"I don't believe you." Armand sat on the top step of the porch, leaning against the railing in a way that was infuriatingly casual, until one noticed a certain unnatural stiffness in his posture. 

“And what, exactly, is so hard to believe?” I asked.

Armand’s face, previously still, showed the most beguiling hint of a smile. “You’re pacing,” he said. “You’ve been doing it on and off for the last hour.”

I stopped in my tracks. He was right, of course.

“Sit with me.”

I resumed my pacing, only now I was aware of how ridiculously, how hideously restless it seemed. Leave it to Armand to show up uninvited and destroy even my simplest pleasure. A few more steps, and I moved to stand near him. 

“I don’t see how you could love this farm as much as you say you do… do you really want to stay here forever?”

“And why not? Everything I want is here. It’s warm enough, the skies are clear, I’m known and adored by those around me...”

“Quinn and Mona aren’t here.”

“All the better. You’ve never been around Mona for any length of time. She’s a positively irredeemable wench.”

“You’re pacing again.”

“You wouldn’t be able to deal with her for five minutes. I’m telling you, she would drive you mad.”

I sat down across from Armand, folding my hands across me knees. He had the good sense not to look smug or over-satisfied. He was dressed in black denim pants, and an exquisite white silk shirt that fit him just a little loosely. 

“You shouldn’t have clipped your hair this evening.”

“And a few hours ago you were telling me that I shouldn’t have come at all.” Armand replied, his tone soft. 

“I told you to leave. That’s not the same thing.”

“You told me that you didn’t want to see me. Now you want to see my hair. That’s always the case though, isn’t it? You always want me to go, until I let you look at me, and then you want nothing more than for me to stay.” 

 

It seemed to me that at another time, Armand might have spoken the same words to me in bitterness. Now, I only sensed a sort of gentle amusement in him. I could not imagine that he had ever been dangerous. 

 

“Not at all dangerous?” He asked, just as I was reaching out to touch him. He didn’t move away. 

 

“If you don’t leave your hair long tomorrow night, I’m driving you away once and for all.”

 

No look of mock annoyance could have been more perfect than his. It made me laugh out loud. It felt wonderful to laugh.

 

“Perhaps it’s time I renewed my efforts.” Armand said.

 

“What efforts, exactly?”

 

Again, that smile, less subtle now.

 

“My efforts to destroy you. It’s been a good century or two since I tried it.”


End file.
